


no time to die

by boatstoesta



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: AU, Enemies, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, bechloe - Freeform, spy AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:54:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23562628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boatstoesta/pseuds/boatstoesta
Summary: Spy AU. Beca Mitchell, CIA operative, is as lethal as she is loyal. Her mission to stop a nuclear weapon from falling into the wrong hands becomes complicated when a woman with fiery hair and icy blue eyes blurs the lines between love and loyalty.
Relationships: Chloe Beale & Beca Mitchell, Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell
Comments: 117
Kudos: 185





	1. PROLOGUE

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! This fic also fits with bechloe-week's April 6th prompt to write bechloe as enemies. Hope you all enjoy!

**PROLOGUE**

***

**MALTA**

Beca checked for a bullet in the chamber. “I’m twenty-five, I live alone, I can’t maintain real relationships because of this job. At this point, you might as well be my only friend, which is frankly just embarrassing.”

Mike pulled the slide of his gun back, doing the same. “Go easy on yourself. We’re a perfect team, that’s why we work.”

It was true, she would give him that. They stood outside a dark compound, both looking at the door, neither of them saying anything. Beca finally glanced back at her partner. “Ready to do this thing?”

He nodded and pushed the door open. “Let’s get this over with.”

They padded silently through the dark and musty building, eventually leading down a set of stairs. “Any sign of him?”

“No, not yet.”

Years of training, pain, no personal life all led to this moment. The biggest target of her career was in this very building. But something about it felt off, and as they moved carefully down another dark corridor, it was a feeling Beca couldn’t shake.

“I don’t like this, Mike. It’s too easy, something about this feels wrong.” This place should be like Fort Knox, not some abandoned empty warehouse.

“Hey, I like easy things.”

“Gross.” Beca knew without looking at him that he was smirking. They’d been partners and best friends for seven years—since she was nineteen years old. Beca knew everything about him, and it was a two-way street. When the person next to you has saved your hide more times than can be counted, a bond formed that didn’t really have a way of being explained. 

They’d seen each other at their lowest, their weakest. She’d seen him kill, the way Mike had seen her do the same. 

Beca never realized how he became the only person in the world who knew her, knew all of her. To everyone else in the world, outside of confidential personnel she could count on one hand, Beca was just a financial analyst. Not tonight, though. Tonight she was the furthest thing from that cover. 

They stepped quietly down a damp set of stairs, her footsteps matched perfectly with Mike’s as they moved in sync. It wasn’t even something they did consciously. It was second nature. 

“When we get the fuck out of Sicily, I’m going to need a drink,” Beca muttered.

“You already know it’s a done deal,” Mike said. 

Beca and Mike both heard the same thing in their earpieces at the same time: “You’ve got two coming around the corner.”

The first bullet missed them completely. In a crouch, Beca silently hurried to get behind a corner for cover, Mike right there with her.

Adrenaline dumped into her veins, sharpening her senses. Fear didn’t shut her down. If anything, it lit her up like a damn Christmas tree. Her eyes scanned for the shooter, finding him just as he was aiming the barrel of his gun at her. It took her half a second to bury a bullet between his eyes.

“Nice,” Mike muttered under his breath. 

They sprinted down another long corridor, not bothering to conceal their footsteps now that the sound of her gunshot gave away their position. 

Around the bend, a man Beca recognized from intelligence briefings was standing stiffly, as though anticipating their arrival. He was stroking his grey beard in a calm thoughtfulness that made Beca’s blood run cold.

“Good evening,” he said softly.

“I’m not sure this is what I would call a good evening, Prifiti,” Mike said. Beca wanted to kick him. She wanted to say, _don’t say things like that_. Not now.

“Why the formalities? Please, call me Aleksander. You have been following my actions for so long, it feels as though we already know each other.”

“Let’s just say there are a lot of people who are interested in what you’re selling.”

“Ah, yes,” Aleksander said. “A dangerously compact and portable nuclear bomb. I knew it would turn heads, but all this attention is flattering.”

Beca’s attuned hearing told her that they weren’t alone. At least five more people were behind them now, no doubt with guns trained on their backs. Her mind began running through scenarios on how to get out of this. The odds were stacking up against them quickly, although she and Mike had gotten out of worse situations before. Three years ago they’d both nearly bitten it in Argentina. 

They still laughed about that one. 

In her earpiece she could hear her team running down the room, escape paths, the number of people they would need to eliminate on each route, warning them of obstacles. 

She knew Mike wouldn’t want to leave without knowing where the nuke was. 

_Don’t overthink. Overthinking makes you hesitate, and if you hesitate you go home in a box._

Beca rapid-fired at every lingering body, each dropping until she couldn’t hear anyone shooting back. Her eyes found Mike, who had rushed Aleksander, now holding him from behind. His gun was to Aleksander’s temple 

“Tell us where it is.”

He just chuckled under Mike’s grip. Beca heard a warning from her earpiece. “More coming from behind.” 

She turned to meet the threat when a shot met her ears and her shoulder jerked back. Dropping to her knees against her will, her gaze hazily found Mike’s. His mouth was open, eyebrows drawn together. 

Beca saw blood pooling around her, pressing her hand to her chest where the bullet exited. Or where it entered? It happened too fast for her to be certain. 

Huh. It was rare to see Mike surprised. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d witnessed real shock on his face. Concealing emotions, that was part of the job. 

She had to force herself to focus. She’d been trained for this, too—how to focus under extreme pain, though this was the first time Beca had been shot. One hand covered the wound, her other searching the damp floor for her gun. 

Her vision was starting to blur. She began running facts and figures through her mind. The average person could lose 15 percent of their blood volume before they were dead. The average woman walked around with 4 liters of blood. What is 15 percent of 4? Think. 

Her hands found her gun, but her vision was going out. Before everything went black she heard a struggle, another shot, and saw Mike’s body drop like a stone.

***

When she swam back into semi-consciousness, Beca could feel that she was lying on a bed. There was a distant rhythmic beeping and a pinching sensation in her shoulder. She opened her eyes and turned her head. She was in a bland room filled with medical equipment, naked under a thin nightgown.

Immediately she began pulling at tubes and trying to get up, despite the fact that she had no real motor coordination and the room was spinning.

Someone came quickly. It was Deputy Director Rhett. This must have been pretty special to drag him out from behind his desk. 

“Beca, I need you to calm down. Take a deep breath. You’re in a hospital in Sicily. We had an emergency evacuation team pull you out, but you’re okay.”

“Mike,” she repeated, pulling the oxygen tubes out of her nose. “I need to see Mike.”

“Mitchell,” her boss said quietly, forcing her to sit back down on the hospital bed. “Mike didn’t make it. We recovered his body, but there was nothing we could do. There was too much damage, too much blood lost. I’m so sorry. He’s dead.”

Every bone in her body snapped and shattered at once. “I need to see Mike,” she repeated, choking on the words. She ripped the IV out of her arm and struggled to stand. “I need to see Mike, I need to see Mike.” 

Nurses were already flooding in, pulling her back down onto the bed. The last thing she registered was the excruciating pain of having no one left and a needle in her arm before everything went black.

***

“As Deputy Director of the CIA, I’ve never had a more difficult duty… than to bid farewell to colleagues taken from us. Mike Braga was more than just a coworker or friend. He was a part of our family.”

Beca looked over to the photo next to the casket, tuning out every word that came from Rhett’s mouth. His good intentions meant less than nothing. 

Everyone knew Mike. Everyone loved him. But Mike had actually been her family, her only family. If it wouldn’t be the height of disrespect to the organization, Beca would have walked out already.

Mike had known her completely, and now he was dead and she was left with strangers. Beca had no one without him. She had nothing. 

Nothing but this job.


	2. Strange Trails

Strange Trails

***

2 YEARS LATER

Beca was sitting around a conference table, notepad in front of her. Last night she’d just gotten in from an operation overseas, leaving her jetlagged. She had the option to stay home from work today but still opted to come in.

If she could opt to stay busy, she always did. At this point, she carried out more missions than any other agent in the organization with the highest success rate by double.

Deputy Director Rhett was going over new intelligence, listing the key players in a new operation. She was scribbling them all down with the accompanying information when one name made her stop.

“Aleksander Prifiti.”

Beca dropped her pen. She couldn’t possibly be hearing that name.

The interest around the table sharpened palpably. Some stiffened, others fidgeted, all gazing at Rhett and Beca.

“Albanian, although he was living in Malta for the past ten years. Disappeared two years ago after killing Agent Mike Braga during an elimination operation. We now know that he has recently been in contact with several terrorist organizations, most notably Al-Qaeda. We have compelling evidence that he has the capabilities to move the nuke before the President’s general assembly next month. We need to get to him before that happens.”

Aleksander Prifiti wasn’t hiding anymore. He was ready to finish the job she and Mike couldn’t stop. Her face remained expertly neutral, but her chest swam with pain at the mention of her old partner. She was barely listening when she heard her name, pulling her focus back in.

“Beca, we’re sending you to Bulgaria. There have been whispers that he’s there. A drone had eyes on him 17 hours ago, and we need to act fast before he moves on.”

Her eyes snapped up to Rhett’s. She didn’t say anything, although her eyes must have spoken volumes because the Deputy Director quickly shifted his gaze away and didn’t meet them again. 

The briefing ended and everyone started filtering out of the room. Everyone but Beca. She approached Rhett where he was gathering his things

“I’m not so sure it’s a good idea for me to be working on this,” Beca said, standing stiffly.

“I know that this one is going to be difficult. We still feel the loss of Mike every day.”

Beca tried not to flinch at the mention of his name, feeling an ache in her shoulder where a bullet had paved a path two years ago. She wasn’t sure who this ‘we’ was. _She_ was the one who was with Mike constantly for seven years. _She_ was the one who had to go on without him. And she had. She was still here, wasn’t she?

“With all due respect, sir, I’d like to recuse myself from this mission. There are other agents who are more than capable of fulfilling the task. Agents who don’t have a history with the target.”

“This is more than just a kill mission. You’re the only one who can do this, Beca. You know Aleksander Prifiti better than anyone. You’re the best we’ve got, and frankly, I won’t trust anyone else to do it. I will get you the very best team we have. Anything you want or need to get this done, you’ll have it. But it has to be you.”

The words were right on her lips. _Do you want to lose me as an agent altogether? Because I would rather tender my resignation effective immediately than go back there._

But in her mind, she could see Mike shaking her head at her. Beca already knew what he would say if he were still here. He would tell her they never leave a mission unfinished.

Beca turned around, grabbing her things in short, irritated movements. “The best team you’ve got,” she said firmly. “I don’t want any rookies in my corner, not for this. And I want an open license.”

An open license to eliminate targets as she saw fit. It was a broad freedom to give, and a dangerous one. Rhett didn’t hesitate. “Done.”

***

In two days’ time, Beca was in Sofia, Bulgaria, wondering how the hell she let herself get involved in this. She was in her hotel at the Palms Royale Casino, sorting through her dresses. One of these might be what she killed Aleksander Prifiti in. She should choose wisely.

Settling on a fitted midnight blue gown with a slit exposing one leg, she did her makeup with an expertly steady hand. Within an hour she was in the elevator. Her team had gotten a tip that potential buyers might be in the casino tonight, and she wanted to scope the building out beforehand.

The casino wasn’t particularly busy yet, it was too early for that, but it was enough that she could get a feel for things without standing out. Beca let her eyes scan the room. They paused over a woman at a high roller blackjack table. 

She had eyes that announced her presence. Not in the way that she was asking for attention—in fact, Beca could see that she was trying to blend in. But her eyes… they held oceans inside them. Next to her copper hair, it was like this woman was made of fire and ice.

She forced herself to look away. She was here on a job. There wasn’t time for distractions. Her team had eyes and ears on her- her earpiece was in and she was wearing a camera in her diamond necklace.

Beca had been training since the day she turned eighteen to be just as comfortable fighting terrorists as mixing with a gala crowd. She was adept at playing any role necessary. Years of training made her proficient at shutting out all distractions that could compromise the operation. Tonight was strictly surveillance. Beca could look at whoever she wanted when the mission was over.

Walking over to the bar, Beca ordered a dry martini. The easiest way to blend in with any environment was not to be idle. Taking a long sip, she noticed a late-model Audi, long and sleek, stop in front of the casino. It was nothing out of the ordinary for this casino, yet something about it caught Beca’s focus.

A dark-haired woman stepped out. Her face was familiar, one that was shown in Rhett’s slideshow of potential key players in the arms deal. Nina Petrov, daughter of a Russian arms dealer the CIA had their eye on.

From behind her, a flash of copper caught Beca’s eye. Fire and Ice walked right by her, straight to Nina Petrov. She extended a hand to Nina, leaning in to kiss her tenderly. Nina’s hands lingered on the redhead’s waist as she leaned in to whisper something in her ear. 

Fire and Ice was no longer a distraction, but a target. They walked by the bar, her hand ghosting Nina’s back. Her blue eyes met Beca’s, an air of curiosity surrounding her. Their gazes lingered, too long, and Beca swallowed. 

Beca has just broken a very important rule. She has made herself noticeable.

***

Beca closed the door to her hotel room on the twenty-third floor.

“Target was spotted in the casino. Nina Petrov,” she said out loud. Her team on the other side of the earpiece would be listening. “She drives a black Audi R8. Get the plate number off casino security footage. The fact that she’s here right now makes her a likely candidate for this deal with Aleksander.” She added, “Her or her father.”

“Were you able to identify the woman with the red hair?” the nameless voice on the other side asked.

Beca paused, looking out the window. “No.” There was something about her that Beca couldn’t put her finger on. There was more to this woman, Beca just didn’t know what yet. “Most likely a girlfriend of the target, nobody important,” she said, not wanting to delve further until she understood more.

“Alright, it’s a start. Excellent work, Agent.”

“Signing off,” Beca muttered, pulling the earpiece out and putting her necklace in her jewelry box, the redhead still on her mind.


	3. Come a Little Closer

Come a Little Closer

The next night, Beca couldn’t help but look for the woman with red hair and blue eyes as she played baccarat. Beca told herself that she was looking for this woman solely because she was close to her target, and that made her important.

This early in the evening, only a few tables were occupied. Latin music played in the background, providing a pleasant ambiance for the filthy rich turning a deal or looking to unwind with a strong drink and gambling.

It was just before midnight when Nina Petrov walked in. The red-haired girlfriend was with her, looking like no expense had been spared on her champagne dress. 

Must be nice having an international arms dealer buying your clothes. 

Nina took her to the bar and ordered a drink. Beca’s eyes traveled down to where Nina’s hand rested on the redhead’s back, the way it drifted lower when Nina kissed her. Beca couldn’t stop herself from fixating on that hand.

For the first time in a long time, suddenly Beca couldn’t wait for this assignment to be over. Normally it was the other way around- the assignment was her reprieve, the longer the better. 

But right now this redhead was nothing but a distraction and Beca didn’t know how to be distracted. She was famously good at _not_ being distracted. She didn’t want to think about Nina Petrov’s hand on the redhead’s lower back. Or better yet, she didn’t want it to matter at all who was on Nina Petrov’s arm. 

Beca cashed out of her game and walked to the bar so she could be closer. The sooner she knew when this deal was going down, the better. The real target was Aleksander Prifiti, not Nina Petrov, and certainly not the woman who held her company.

The red-haired woman leaned in to whisper something in Nina’s ear, and when she did her bright blue eyes locked onto Beca’s. 

Beca should have looked away, should have pretended to be busy or aloof. Beca was supposed to be the most inconspicuous part of the room. She was supposed to blend in so well she might as well be a piece of furniture. 

It wasn’t even Beca who looked away first, but the redhead. Her cheeks heated through. For an instant, Beca felt annoyed by the irony of it, at the way she had risen to her glance.

***

Out of her peripheral, Beca saw a champagne dress approach and sit next to her. After a moment of Beca keeping her eyes pointed forward, the woman asked, “Are you going to buy me a drink?”

Beca didn’t have to look at her to know who it was, or to know that it was potentially fatal for them to be seen together. Nina had left the room two minutes ago, so Beca kept her expression even and glanced back at her. “You’re here with the richest woman in the casino and you need me to buy you a drink?”

“You noticed that,” she said.

“Kind of hard not to.”

She looked at Beca, the corner of her lips curling up. “Maybe I don’t need you to, but I want you to.”

Behind the bar, a baby-faced Cuban man in black pants, white shirt, and a vest the same bordeaux as the carpet polished glasses. Beca nodded in his direction. “Make her a lemon drop, please.”

She arched an eyebrow at the way Beca knew her drink. “So that’s not the only thing you’ve noticed.”

“A simple observation,” Beca conceded. If she was pressed on it, she could chalk it up to being a people watcher. When the drink arrived, Beca had to push away the curiosity of what the sour drink would taste like on the redhead’s lips.

Not breaking their gaze, the redhead said to the bartender, “And bring her a martini. Dry, please.”

Beca searched her eyes now, confused. Arm candy didn’t notice things like that. People like Beca did. 

People who watched people because it kept them alive.

An understanding passed through her, one that told her she wasn’t the only duplicitous person between the two of them. The bartender dropped the drink off and walked off. “What’s your name?” Beca asked.

She let her eyes trail down. “Caroline.”

Beca raised her glass to her lips slowly, looking at this woman through calculating eyes. “No.”

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t care what cover name they gave you.” Beca tilted her head, her fingertips twisting the stem of her glass. “Tell me your real name.”

The sly smile on the redhead’s lips faltered. She turned her head, looking for anyone who could have possibly overheard her. There was no one, but Beca knew this already. She had a handle on every person within fifteen feet of herself at all times. 

When she looked to Beca the sly smile on her face was back, as though they were still talking about drinks. Good. If you were going to be undercover, controlling your expressions was everything. It was the difference between being around for the next assignment and a bullet between the eyes.

Pressing her lips together, it added to Beca’s intrigue. She was right about the redhead. 

“That’s not how this works.”

“It could be,” Beca said.

“You’re right. It could be. Tell me yours, then.”

Beca smirked. This woman was quick. “Would you believe me if I did?”

Her eyes surveyed Beca confidently. Her deft fingers slipped around Beca’s martini glass, allowing for a microscopic brush of their fingertips. Never breaking eye contact, she took a long draw. “Only one way to find out.”

Beca let her gaze drop down to her lips, unable to stop herself from wondering yet again what she tasted like. “Blake. Blake Miller.”

The corners of her lips pulled up. Leaning in, her lips brushing against Beca’s ear, she whispered, “ _Bullshit._ ”

Beca felt the martini glass pressed back into her hand, and then she was watching copper-colored hair disappear around the corner. Her lipstick was on the rim. Beca stared at the mark, feeling her heart quicken, not knowing what was good for it.

***

At the front desk of the hotel, a gentleman in a suit was quietly typing something into the computer. Beca approached him with an innocent smile.

“How can I help you?” he asked, his Slavic accent thick.

“Yes, I’d like to speak to your manager, if you could get them for me.”

He bowed his head. “Absolutely, madame. I’ll return in a moment.”

As soon as he walked back into the office, Beca made the risky move of sliding behind the front desk and going straight to the computer. “Caroline, Caroline, Caroline,” she muttered under her breath. She searched through the guest database for the name. Her gaze flitted up to make sure no one was watching her before scrolling further.

“Bingo,” she muttered. She committed the information to heart. Full name, room number, personal information, all of it, and then exited out of the program and walked away.

***

Beca paced back and forth in her hotel room. She gave the information to her team hours ago and had yet to hear back. So much for the best team Rhett had to offer.

Eventually, a voice popped into her head via earpiece. Finally. “You there, Agent?”

“I’m here.”

“We were able to use the information you gave us to I.D. the woman.”

She was pacing faster now. “Took you long enough. Who is she?”

“Sorry, MI6 covered their tracks well. She was nearly impossible to find.”

MI6. Her gut instinct had been right, the redhead was undercover. “Give me what you’ve got,” Beca said impatiently. 

“Chloe Beale, an undercover informant for the Secret Intelligence Service. 28 years old, born and raised in Portland, Oregon. From what we’ve seen, posing undercover as Petrov’s girlfriend for MI6. She must be in pretty deep if she is.”

Beca ran her fingers through her hair in a rare nervous habit. “What the hell is she doing working for the British government? She’s American.”

“She has an American father and an English mother. That’s the only information we have on why she could be working for them.”

“Alright. It’s enough. Thank you. I’m signing off for now.” She pulled the earpiece out and tossed it on the bed, the name Chloe at the forefront of her mind.


	4. She Lit a Fire

She Lit a Fire

Beca was getting ready for another night, hoping to gather intel, when a voice from her team sounded in her earpiece. “You there, agent?”

“I’m here,” she confirmed, applying makeup in the mirror with a steady hand.

“Nina Petrov has organized a high stakes poker game to recoup money for the deal and it’s happening tonight. There’s a $10 million buy-in.”

She paused, dropping her hands. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

“No. We think this is a last-ditch effort to get the funds for Aleksander’s bomb.”

“Has Rhett said how he wants me to handle it?”

“Yeah, but I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

Beca sighed. “Great.”

“We need someone to play. Someone that can beat her. If she doesn’t have enough money to do this deal, Aleksander Prifiti will have no choice but to search for another buyer. That could be our chance to do this nice and clean.”

He was right about one thing—Beca didn’t like it. He was nice enough to say someone had to play. They both know Rhett meant _she_ did.

“I’ll do it,” Beca said. “But Rhett better know there are no guarantees.”

“I’ll pass that along. The money is in your account already.”

Beca rolled her eyes and walked over to the closet, grabbing a black dress to match her soul at this particular moment.

***

Chloe was standing behind Nina Petrov like the elegant, clueless companion she was pretending to be. As Beca took her place at the table, Beca had to force herself not to look at her. She was supposed to be nobody to Beca. There was no logical reason for her to know Nina Petrov’s girlfriend, so as of this moment, Beca didn’t.

The dealer started the game with expert dexterity as he dealt the cards. Beca concentrated on the motion of it, letting it center her.

The smoke and sweat of the casino only underlined the fear and anxiety and greed that came along with high-stakes gambling. Beca knew she had to call upon her highest self, the one with laser focus and the ability to read body language like a map. Ten million dollars of the CIA’s money was on the line, but more than that, Nina Petrov’s ability to purchase a portable and compact nuclear weapon.

After four hours of playing, the dealer announced, “We will be taking an hour-long break. Please be back by midnight to continue playing.”

Beca stood from the table, her palms sweaty, well aware that Nina Petrov didn’t look happy. Beca was matching her almost hand for hand. 

She walked to the door staff used to the back alleyway where she could be sure she would have some privacy. The pot was at a staggering $110 million. It was like playing with fire. Beca would prefer a good old fashioned shootout over four more hours of this. Somehow she’d managed not to look at Chloe once, despite how fucking hard it was.

Lighting a match, she held a cigar over it, rotating it and puffing on it until it burned evenly. Beca didn’t really even like cigars. It was a little ritual Mike would do when his cover was getting to him, though, and she just felt like she needed a little bit of him right now. Beca couldn’t help but remember how much easier it was when there were two of them.

The door opened, and Beca instinctively prepared herself to go for her gun while keeping her face even and unphased. 

Chloe stepped outside. Beca tried not to allow herself to look at her cherry-red dress or the way it hugged her body. She definitely, definitely didn’t let herself look at the slit that ran up the side, exposing Chloe’s leg almost to the hip. 

Silently, Chloe held her fingers out. Beca placed the cigar between the first two. Chloe raised it, wrapping her lips around it as she puffed on it twice. “Mm. That’s nice.”

A shiver went up Beca’s spine at the sound of Chloe’s almost-moan. This woman would be the death of her, and she wasn’t even trying to kill her. Chloe stepped close to her, her big blue eyes revealing a deep-seated curiosity, and something much more depraved. Beca’s eyes dropped to Chloe’s hand as she held the cigar out. 

As Beca took it, Chloe’s gaze moved lower. Her hand brushed against Beca’s thigh, meeting the place where Beca’s gun was strapped. “I thought you were happy to see me.”

Beca swallowed at the off-color joke. “Sorry to disappoint.”

Her icy blue eyes were so curious, so close. Beca couldn’t look away. “How do you know when to shoot?” Chloe asked.

Beca’s gaze traveled down to her lips involuntarily. “It’s about knowing when not to shoot,” Beca said softly.

Chloe smiled a little. “You know, that’s an awfully big gun for such a little girl.”

Needing to regain some power in this dynamic, Beca leaned in as she whispered in her ear. “You’ll find that I’m not as little as you think, Chloe.”

Chloe’s entire body stiffened. She pulled back, meeting Beca's eyes. In another world, Beca would feel bad about the fear she saw there. 

“How do you know my name?” she demanded.

“‘Caroline Brooks’ isn’t as airtight as MI6 thought,” Beca said simply.

Chloe’s voice was a hushed whisper. “Do you realize what kind of danger you put me in just by saying it out loud? Do you want Nina to kill me?”

“The same kind of danger you put me in by following me out here.” Beca had been collecting intelligence on Nina Petrov for years. Enough to know that half the people she dealt with ended up dead. “I want to be able to do my job. You being here endangers that. You’re completely compromising me.” One undercover operative is risky enough, let alone two from two different countries.

Beca didn’t say that it was nearly impossible to focus on the poker game with her around, knowing that she was just beyond Nina at the table. That it drove her crazy thinking about Nina kissing her and touching her with her hands, that Beca thought about it nearly every time Nina’s fingers touched her chips. It was torture. The sooner she was gone the better. 

“If I can find out who you are, so can Nina,” Beca muttered. “Your cover is blown. Go back to England before you get us both killed.”

“I’m compromising _you?_ Tell me you’re kidding. You’re trying to steal a hundred million dollars from my target through high stakes gambling, and _I’m_ the one compromising a mission?”

“You shouldn’t even be in this casino right now,” Beca said shortly. “And it’s not stealing if I win it.”

“I’ve been with her for weeks. You only just got here. Despite your feelings of grandeur, I’m here with a job to do, too.”

“Yeah, and how are you going to do that, Chloe? Seduce her, and she’ll tell you all her deepest darkest secrets? That your big fucking plan?”

“And if it is?”

“Sounds romantic. I hope you get lucky.”

Beca tossed the cigar on the ground, having no interest in it anymore. She walked inside, met by the bustling casino floor again. Beelining for the bar, she needed a dry martini to settle her before she sat back down at that table. Beca couldn’t appear worked up, not if she was going to pull this off.

Two hours into more gameplay, a majority of the chips resided with Nina Petrov and Beca. She could tell Nina was getting antsy. 

Beca was anxious too, not that she gave any outward signs. To any outsider looking in, it would look as though it were a chore to be playing. She just didn’t know how she was going to win away the chips on Nina’s side. 

She inadvertently glanced at Chloe despite knowing better. She was giving Beca a strange look, reaching up to touch her jaw subtly. She did it twice.

Beca looked back to Nina as she pushed her chips forward, then brushed her fingertips against her jaw.

Nina Petrov had a tell.

And Chloe was the one to figure it out.

***

With more tense, dagger filled looks than Beca had ever seen before, she and Nina went all-in on their final hand.

A $110 million pot between them.

They both laid their cards down. And Beca won with a straight flush. 

Part of her wanted to be relieved, but Nina Petrov was no one to be toyed with, and Beca had done just that. Beca wouldn’t know relief until Aleksander Prifiti was dead and she was back in Washington with a new assignment under her belt.

As Beca walked back to her hotel room, flushed from the adrenaline rush of taking millions from an arms dealer, she could hear Rhett’s voice in her earpiece for the first time since this mission began. “Beale knows too much about you, she’s compromised the mission. You have the green flag to neutralize the threat.”

The CIA always used clinical and detached terms for such actions. What he really meant is that if Chloe gets in the way again, Beca is meant to kill her. If she’s seen with her, her cover is blown, therefore Chloe has been deemed as collateral damage—pushed into the category of what the CIA was willing to expend in order to stop this weapon from reaching its destination at the feet of the President. 

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary.” 

“Stick to the mission, Mitchell. We may only get one opportunity to do this.”

“I realize that.” She paused. “She’s just not… not exactly a typical target.”

“You asked for the license to kill in the field at your own discretion. Use it. Lives could depend on it. Yours could.”

***

There was a knock on her door. Beca’s eyes snapped open, grabbing the gun on her nightstand. It was three in the morning. She was sleeping in sweatpants and a sports bra, and she didn’t bother putting a shirt on as she walked to the door. If she had to kill someone, it was one less piece of evidence to burn.

She tucked the gun into the back of her waistband. Looking through the peephole, she could see Chloe standing on the other side, still in her dress. Didn’t this woman know when enough was enough? 

Rhett’s words echoed through her mind. _She knows too much. Neutralize the threat. Stick to the mission._ She clenched her eyes shut, pressing her forehead against the door. She didn’t want to let her in, but Beca knew to let her stand outside her door was just as bad. At least in the room, they couldn’t be seen.

Sighing in frustration, Beca finally opened it, stepping aside so Chloe could enter. 

The moment Beca closed the door, she pulled her gun and aimed it at Chloe’s chest. She was almost impressed with Chloe’s response time—she reached down and pulled her own gun almost simultaneously. 

Chloe held her gaze evenly. “You wouldn’t.”

“I make a habit out of doing things people say I can’t do, so be careful how you choose your words.”

“I can pull this trigger just as easily as you can," Chloe said.

They stood there, chests heaving, both looking down the barrel of each other’s guns. 

Chloe was the first to break rank. Her eyes drifted down to Beca’s bare midriff where she stood in only her sports bra.

Right. Less evidence. 

Beca took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down, but her heart ignored her and continued to pound. She was a statue, disciplined into stillness. Her hands gripped her gun too hard.

Chloe’s eyes met hers again, searching for any sign of hesitation. Beca’s want for her became an almost unbearable heat, spreading downward until she was almost shaking with the effort of holding herself back.

She didn’t know who dropped their gun first, but suddenly they were both free of them. Their hands grasped at each other as their lips met desperately somewhere in the middle. There was suddenly a relief, the overwhelming relief Beca had been waiting for.

Chloe’s tongue that slipped past the borders of their lips. As soon as Beca felt it against her lower lip, she was set free. Beca pulled her in tighter, and yet it was nowhere near tight enough.

“You taste exactly like I imagined,” Chloe gasped. 

Her heart was knocking so hard against her ribs she was scared Chloe could hear it. Chloe’s fingers fervently grip the hem of her bra, and then all at once they were almost frantically pulling each other’s clothes off. 

Their lips met again as Beca let her hand brush over the black lace of Chloe’s thong, unable to stop the groan in her throat. “Fuck, Chloe.”

They stepped back in unison, collapsing on the bed together. Chloe settled atop Beca. Creamy skin, full breasts, hard nipples. Just imagining her lips on them flooded Beca. For a brief, terrifying moment, she was so overwhelmed that she didn’t know what to do. Her desire and arousal were so foreign in their intensity. Beca wanted everything, all at once.

Her eyes fluttered closed as Chloe bent down to kiss Beca’s neck, their chests flush, skin on hot skin. Beca took a moment and just inhaled her, her hands finding Chloe’s waist.

“Chloe, I… Christ.” Beca was practically stammering like a virgin. 

This was not a good idea. 

This was going to cause problems. 

But then Chloe had her hands deep in Beca’s hair, and she wasn’t capable of rational thought anymore. Years of training to tune out distractions and emotion meant nothing at the feet of Chloe Beale. She was putty in Chloe’s hands and she knew it. 

There was a new kind of urgency to their touches. Beca gasped as Chloe’s lips closed around her nipple, grinding herself on Beca’s hip. Her need was obvious, wet and hot against Beca. 

Beca’s thighs clenched, trying to relieve some of the pressure between her legs.

Everything about her, Beca loved. Her scent. Her desperate sounds. The way she tasted and felt. There was an electric current running under her skin, sparking all her nerves. Chloe’s hand stole between them, her finger circling Beca’s clit. Beca couldn’t help but let her fingers dig into Chloe’s waist, a heavy breath escaping her. 

“Please. Please,” Beca pleaded. 

Chloe pulled away, her lips kissing a wet trail on Beca’s stomach. She deliberately withdrew and lifted herself up to look at Beca. “Please what?”

Chloe was flushed, her hair loose and mussed beautifully. “Fuck me.”

Chloe dropped her body down, and arm sliding under Beca’s waist while she licked and sucked at her neck. 

“Not until you beg me,” Chloe murmured against Beca’s skin.

Beca began to squirm beneath her, wanting to regain some semblance of control, but Chloe wouldn’t allow it. Beca looked down at her, a stubborn expression in her eyes, a look that told her she wasn’t going to bend. Then Chloe got a mischievous look in her eyes that made Beca’s heart race.

Lowering herself inch by inch, Chloe let her tongue sweep so slowly, so lightly over Beca’s clit that it was nothing but a tease, a reminder of what she was really waiting for. It was maddening. She kissed her way back up Beca’s stomach, settling there and looking up to Beca’s flushed cheeks.

Beca groaned, trying to move her hips against Chloe’s, but Chloe kept herself away, denying her contact. She knew Chloe wouldn’t budge until the moment she got what she wanted. Beca pushed her head back into the mattress. “Please. Fuck me. I need your tongue on me. Please, Chloe, I need you.” She dug her fingers into Chloe’s arms.

Chloe kissed her way further up, in the wrong direction. Her teeth found Beca’s neck again as she rolled onto her back, pulling Beca on top of her. Beca let out another frustrated groan until Chloe slid down to position herself underneath Beca’s slick folds. 

A moan, this time of satisfaction, escaped Beca’s lips as Chloe’s tongue finally touched her. Beca’s breath was erratic as it circled her over and over. She couldn’t help the way her hips jerked or the small whimper that left her lips.

She glanced down and saw Chloe’s hand snaked between her own legs to touch herself. Witnessing this beautiful act of self-gratification mixed with the pleasure from her tongue was almost unbearable. 

“Don’t you dare,” Beca breathed, reaching down and pulling Chloe’s hand away by the wrist.

Beca wanted to hold on, she wanted more, but Chloe’s tongue, and now her fingers, made it impossible. When her release hit her, she was shuddering above Chloe, trying to control her hips the best she could. After riding it out, she slowly unhooked herself from Chloe’s shoulders and straddled her waist, pausing to kiss her lips, then her jaw, all the way down to her breasts. She kissed them over and over, lightly biting one of her nipples, then soothing it over with a gentle sweep of her tongue. 

Chloe’s hands were tight in her hair as she continued her trail down. Settling on the bed between Chloe’s thighs, Beca kissed Chloe’s silky thighs over and over. Chloe lifted her hips, desperate for contact, friction, anything. Beca’s tongue was everywhere but where Chloe wanted it. Where she needed it.

“Please,” Chloe rasped.

Beca looked up at her from between her legs, her mouth twisted in a self-satisfied smirk. “Now who’s begging?”

Chloe didn’t even have time to answer. Beca dropped her head and her tongue found her clit. She let her hands slide up Chloe’s body until they found her breasts, her thumbs softly rolling over Chloe’s nipples.

Beca slowed her tongue, keeping Chloe just out of reach of her finish. She was playing with her, bringing her to the brink and then pulling her back again, until finally she allowed Chloe to crash over the edge. It was like Chloe was levitating under her, gasping out in waves, her toes curling against the sheets. 

The aftermath of sex settled deep in Beca, each cell in her body feeling whole again. She kissed the inside of Chloe’s thigh as she lay there, weak and boneless, before crawling up and draping her body across hers. 

Chloe slid her leg over Beca, placing a featherlight kiss on her nose. With heavy-lidded eyes, she ran her finger across the ragged skin just under Beca’s clavicle. She’d probably seen it’s matching scar on her shoulder, too.

After a long silence, Chloe’s hand stilled over it. “This…?” Chloe whispered.

Beca looked down to where her hand was. She didn’t show people that. She certainly didn’t talk about it. After a long while, she whispered. “One of Aleksander Prifiti’s men shot me. The night my partner was killed.” 

“Oh.” They were laying in the blue dark, Chloe’s fingers tracing the curves of Beca’s body. They stayed like that, just touching and being touched. “I just realized something,” Chloe said softly.

She pushed a stray hair back from Chloe’s face, meeting her soft eyes. “What is that?”

Her fingers paused their ministrations on her waist. “You know my name, but I don’t know yours. Not your real one.”

Beca stilled, her eyes lingering on Chloe’s. In nine years of espionage work, never has she broken anonymity on an assignment. 

She couldn’t explain it, but something about the way Chloe looked at her felt so right that it terrified her. It made her want to confess to her every secret she’s ever had. To tell her would violate so many rules, maybe even endanger her life. But this woman had a grip on her she couldn’t explain. 

“My name is Beca,” she whispered.

If she thought the woman beneath her couldn’t possibly soften to her more than she already had, she was wrong. She reached up, her thumb sliding along Beca’s bottom lip.

“Beca,” she whispered back, testing the word on her mouth. Chloe pressed a kiss to the slope of her breast. “Beca,” she said again. Her lips wrapped around Beca’s sensitive nipple, her tongue circling it gently. She kissed her way up to Beca’s throat, nipping at her jaw. “Beca, kiss me,” she breathed.

***

It was just after five in the morning. The sky was just a shade lighter, a hint that the sun was not far from rising. Their limbs were tangled together, just holding each other, sometimes talking. They could both feel their time together nearing its end.

“Now what do we do?” Chloe whispered as they both looked out the window.

“I don’t know.”

Chloe sighed, pressing her nose into Beca’s cheek. “Will you tell me about your partner?” she asked. Her fingers found the scar on her chest. “Will you tell me about this?”

Beca swallowed. “I’m here trying to prevent Nina Petrov from purchasing a massive weapon.” She could feel Chloe nod against her. “But she’s not my target, not really. It’s the guy who did this,” Beca murmured, covering Chloe’s hand over her scar. “The seller. Aleksander Prifiti... He killed my partner, Mike. My best friend.”

“I’m so sorry. That’s awful.”

Beca shrugged a little, looking up at the ceiling. “That’s the job.”

“What about your partner now? Do you get along?”

Beca shook her head. “No new partner.”

“Really? They let you go solo?”

“They weren’t happy about it, but when you’re as good as I am for as long as I have been, you get some pull with the higher-ups. I get the job done, so I got what I wanted... to work alone.”

Chloe’s fingers interlaced with hers. “It has to be lonely, though. I mean, people who are as deep undercover as we are, maybe fifteen people in the world know what you really do.”

“Five,” Beca said. “After Mike died, there are only five people who know me as Beca Mitchell the agent. The deputy director, three approved support agents, and the guy who designs all my gear and tools. Too many people want me dead to risk any more than that. Anyone else essential to the mission gets extremely limited information… to them, I’m just a nameless agent.” She let her finger trail down Chloe’s arm. “So you make number six. It hasn’t been six for a long time.”

“What does your family think you do?”

Beca looked away. “Don’t have a family.”

“That’s a long time to be on your own like this,” Chloe said softly.

“It didn’t feel like it was until now,” Beca murmured. Her fingers traced Chloe’s jawline. “I don’t want you to go.”

“I know…” She glanced at the window apprehensively. “I’ve already been offline long enough, and so have you. I don’t need my guys thinking some rogue CIA agent shot me because I knew too much.”

“Technically not rogue. I have an open license to eliminate any threat, so anything that happens when I’m out here is perfectly legal,” she sighed playfully.

Chloe blinked at her. “I didn’t realize I was with such a hotshot. You have to be elite to get an open license to kill.” 

Beca flinched at the word kill. She and Mike never used that word. A person was never a person, always a target. A target was never killed, always neutralized, eliminated. They both agreed ‘kill’ made it harder to sleep at night.

“I’m sorry,” Chloe said quietly. “Have you… have you had to do that to many people?”

“Yes,” Beca said softly. “Most of the time I don’t even think about it. If I did, I wouldn’t be very good at my job. Regret is unprofessional in this line of work.” She looked at Chloe expectantly. “Have you?”

“No, I haven't. I almost had to once, but...”

They both looked out the window again, seeing the sun peak over the city’s horizon. They both knew it was dangerous for Chloe to stay much longer.

She moved to stand, a goodbye in her eyes, but Beca gripped her hand. “My job at this casino is finished. I’ll have to move on to finding Aleksander Prifiti.”

Chloe's face dropped. “Oh…”

“Nina is dangerous. You shouldn’t stay either.”

“Your job may be finished, Beca, but mine isn’t. I’m supposed to stay and continue gathering intel on her and her father. This isn’t their only venture MI6 is interested in.”

The overwhelming need to protect Chloe choked her. Beca just nodded, looking away. “Then we can’t speak to each other again.” Beca kept her gaze fixed out the window. She couldn’t watch Chloe walk away, but she couldn’t be the reason Chloe got killed. Or worse.

Chloe took Beca’s jaw in her hands, pulling her face back so she could nip at her bottom lip. Beca pulled her tight against her, kissing her hard. She wanted all of her so badly. She wasn’t sure the wanting would ever stop.

Chloe pulled away first. “Just… be safe, alright? As safe as you can manage.”

Beca wanted to respond, but her throat was too tight. She nodded as Chloe picked her gun up and watched as she strapped it back on her thigh. Her chest felt like it might fold in half. She stood and walked over to the window, the sound of the door closing sending a shock through her spine.


	5. Even Mountains Change Over Time

Even Mountains Change Over Time

Beca stood in the shower of her hotel room, letting the hot water roll over her continuously. It was better this way. If she still smelled like Chloe, she would drive herself crazy all day.

When she put her earpiece in and turned it on, she found her team had been waiting for her. A nameless support agent chimed in her ear, “Hey, Rhett’s been waiting to talk to you all morning.”

“Put him on,” Beca said flatly. 

It didn’t even take ten seconds for his voice to come through. “Beca, you doing alright?”

“‘Course I’m doing alright. I’m always doing alright, Rhett.” 

“You know I ask anyway. Tell me, was the threat neutralized?”

Beca paused. Last night Chloe was supposed to be dead, not naked in her bed. There was no explaining that one. “No, sir. I believe she and Petrov left the Palms Royale temporarily. Neither of them were anywhere to be found last night after the poker game.” Trying to change the subject, she asked, “Do we have eyes on Prifiti?”

“No, radio silence. Considering his buyer just fell through, he should have made some sort of movement by now.”

“What do you want me to do until he slips up and reveals himself?”

“Stay where you are for now,” Rhett said. “It’s best not to move you until we’re sure we know where he is.”

Beca put her forehead in her hand. It couldn’t be any more dangerous for her to stay here, not that she could tell Rhett why.

“Are we expecting any retaliation from Petrov for winning away her money?” Beca muttered. _Or for fucking her girlfriend? Who isn’t really her girlfriend, but a British spy? Any of those killable offenses, Rhett?_

“Stay hidden and we won’t have to find out,” Rhett said. 

“Understood,” she sighed. “Signing off.”

She wanted to leave this place. If Beca saw Chloe again, she wasn’t sure she could maintain cover. She was barely able to do it the first time. For the first time in her career dealing with a long list of terrorists, arms dealers, and professional killers, this woman with the ocean eyes would be the one to make her break. Beca never thought she’d see the day.

As she got dressed, her hand lingered over a bite mark on her hip. She wondered if Chloe still felt her somewhere on her body, too.

***

Beca knew she was supposed to stay out of sight.

In theory, she knew this. 

But she spent a long, fairly frustrating day alone in her hotel room. And for the first time in a long time, maybe years, it bothered her to be alone. 

She was lying on the bed, hands folded over her stomach, staring at the ceiling. Showering only fixed part of the problem; the sheets smelled like Chloe, too.

Room service didn’t sate her. Pay-per-view movies didn’t help. She floated through the hours like a ghost, torn between wishing Rhett would call and dreading that when he did it would carry her further away from Chloe.

It was two in the morning when she decided she couldn’t stay cooped up in her room anymore. 

She threw on leggings and a sports bra and snuck to the hotel’s fitness center, figuring at this hour anyone would either be asleep or gambling and she could get by without being seen.

Beca got on the treadmill, setting the speed to a moderate pace, hoping this would be the thing to remove Chloe from her mind. She ran until her calves burned and her chest seared, but it did nothing. The redhead was at the forefront of her mind. 

She’d been going through life half-awake, and she would have kept on going if Chloe would have had the decency to just let her be. But she didn’t. And now Beca was wide awake, and everything looked different. 

She turned the speed higher, her foot strikes matching her racing heart. Her cheeks puffed with the effort of her lungs, yet all she could feel was Chloe’s hands ghosting over the same spots the sweat dripped down her body. She clumsily berated the speed button until she was in a full sprint. _You’re never going to see her again, so get over it,_ she told herself. Over and over, like a broken record. 

Her body gave out before her mind. When her feet were barely keeping from tripping over themselves, her palm slammed the red stop button and she slowed to a walk, hardly able to breathe. She put her hands on her hips, only feeling worse than when she started. 

Wiping the sweat from her face, she walked back to her room through a thankfully-deserted hallway.

***

After tossing and turning through the night, the sun was inevitably kissing the sky. Beca reached blindly for the phone to order room service. She was feeling particularly annoyed at Rhett for keeping her in this purgatory, and now she was geared up to ask for whatever the most expensive thing on the menu was for every meal until she left this place.

The first ring was interrupted by a featherlight tapping on her door. Beca froze. The front desk picked up and was now asking Beca if she could hear them, but she was already hanging up the phone.

She could think of only one person who would need to announce themselves so subtly. Throwing herself out of bed, she opened the door and pulled a tired-looking Chloe into the room.

“What are you doing here?” Beca exclaimed. Relief flooded her senses, despite the fact that it was the last thing she should be feeling.

“I may or may not have hacked into the security footage to make sure you got out safely. Why are you still here? I thought you would be gone.” 

She could hear the self-justifying note in Choe’s voice, the plea for Beca to understand why she was here when she should not be. And she did understand—it scared Beca just how much she understood.

“They want me to wait for Aleksander to make a move before I expose myself in case Nina has a chip on her shoulder.”

“Yeah, well, she does. She’s furious. $110 million is a lot of money, Beca,” Chloe said. 

Beca searched Chloe’s eyes for a moment. She looked exhausted, as if she hadn’t slept in two days. It made her uneasy to know Chloe was still around Nina Petrov after Beca had essentially provoked her. “Is it safe for you to be around her?”

“Is it ever?” Chloe said, wincing. “That’s the job.”

Her chest tightened at the way Chloe quoted her own words back to her. Before she had time to dwell on it, though, Chloe was walking straight at Beca, kissing her immediately. Beca let out a whimper of surprise—since when did she whimper in surprise?—but melted quickly into it. 

Chloe pushed Beca back toward the bed. “Oh,” Beca murmured against her. The back of her knees hit the mattress and they both fell onto it.

“That’s better,” Chloe said, looking pleased with herself. She wrapped her body around Beca’s, nudged her nose into the crook of her neck, and then just… exhaled a long steady breath.

_Oh._

They were in bed, just lying there together, and Beca wouldn’t change it for the world. She liked being held by Chloe. She never wanted it to end. 

“I don’t understand you,” Beca murmured, brushing her fingertips along Chloe’s shoulder.

“In what way?”

“I just…” she sighed. Articulating thoughts and emotions wasn’t something she knew how to do. “That night, why did you come to find me outside? Why did you come to my room?”

Chloe nuzzled into her further, her cheeks turning red. “During that poker game... you never looked at me, but the whole time I couldn’t stop looking at you. Couldn’t stop wanting you to look at me. It just… drove me crazy.”

Beca’s chest was tight. She was beginning to think this was more inevitable than she would have ever guessed. 

“I couldn’t look at you. I was already so distracted just thinking about you I could barely play the game. So much was at stake, but it was torture not to be able to glance over at you and see those blue eyes.” When she thought about the events of last night, she almost winced. “If Nina Petrov were to wonder where you are right now…”

“Shhh. Don’t do that. Not right now.”

Beca paused, aware of the lump in her throat. It felt as though she was in an elevator with a broken cable, and the floor was falling out from beneath her. There was so much she wanted to say, but she knew words would only fail her. She sighed, her fingers lightly brushing the arm that was still draped possessively across her stomach. The more she exposed herself to Chloe, the more she found herself in that plummeting elevator.

Chloe rolled over on her side to face Beca. She looked so peaceful, so… beautiful. Leaning in, she pressed her lips against Beca’s so softly, opening them just slightly to capture Beca’s. Beca felt herself soften and lean in, felt Chloe’s fingertips trailing down the side of her neck. 

The agonizing realness of Chloe’s skin wasn’t helping matters. When they touched it was as though there was another world they were living in, one who’s time and gravity didn’t follow the same rules. 

“I want you,” Chloe whispered.

The look in her eyes scared Beca. It confused her. That look… It almost felt like home. But Beca didn’t really know what home felt like. 

She wasn’t really sure how she got here—she faced so much deadly shit without even blinking, but here was this beautiful woman who made her afraid of both letting go and holding on.

“Take me,” she finally whispered back. 

Chloe didn’t hesitate, her arms gently cradling Beca, loving her with a humble patience Beca never knew existed—a gentle insistence that was a continuation of the lesson so brutally begun the night before.

Beca did something rare, something she couldn’t recall ever doing before. She relinquished all control. She was bare and exposed, sweating against her, letting her lead them in their give and take. Every touch fanned the heat growing in her dark and injured heart, until finally she shook in Chloe’s arms at her finish, letting the moment shatter her as it would.

Being with Chloe was exhilarating, but she still wondered if this was a mistake. If it was, it was one she’d made willingly, and one she would willingly make again. Nonetheless, it wasn’t the wisest thing she’d ever done. For the briefest of moments, she wished the missions didn’t exist anymore, for the simplicity she’d never known, but then caught herself.

She pulled back, meeting Chloe’s eyes. They looked too tired. “How much time before you have to go?”

Chloe twisted to look at the digital clock on the nightstand. “A few hours,” she sighed.

Beca’s lips curled up at the corners, just happy to have more time with her. “Try to get some sleep, then.”

“But—” Chloe began, but Beca cut in.

“Just a little. You look so tired.”

Chloe looked as though a protest was right there on her lips, ready to be said. But she looked into Beca’s eyes a moment longer before finally nodding. “Just a little,” Chloe agreed sleepily. “Promise you’ll wake me?”

Beca gently kissed Chloe’s cheek, just below her eyelashes. She let her eyes roam to take all of her in. Her landmarks, the dips and curves of her body. She reached a hand out to Chloe. “Promise.”

Chloe settled against her, making herself the big spoon, wrapping an arm around Beca’s waist and accepting her hand tightly into her own. She brushed Beca’s hair away from her neck and placed a light kiss there before letting her head rest on the pillow, sleep taking her in a matter of minutes.

***

As promised, Beca woke Chloe up after an hour and a half, wanting her to rest, but knowing they were on fixed time. She roused her by moving her hand gently in a circle across her back until Chloe’s eyes fluttered open, a small smile playing at her lips when she saw Beca.

They laid there in silence for what could have been thirty minutes before Beca broke the silence. “Do you think there’s such a thing as staying on the job too long?” Beca asked quietly.

“Yeah, I do. Do you?”

Beca hesitated. “I didn’t before, but I think... now I might.” 

Chloe made Beca realize how years of working with detached emotions had taken its toll. The truth was, she made Beca realize a lot of things. Beca disconnected their hands and rolled away from Chloe onto her back. She stared up at the ceiling. 

They laid there in silence, the only noise in the room their quiet breaths. Chloe reached out, wrapping her hand around Beca’s wrist before murmuring, “Just say you’re scared if you’re scared.”

Beca chewed the inside of her cheek. “I am, but not of what you think.”

“Then what?”

“I’m scared of you,” Beca whispered. “I never expected this to happen, you know? And now...”

Once this assignment was over for Beca, she would go back to the States until another was given. And Chloe… she didn’t even know what would happen to her. When you’re undercover, there’s no outside contact with anyone. It’s too dangerous. 

They were operatives in two different countries. There was no future in this, whatever it was. Neither of them could argue otherwise. It was the life they signed up for. Chloe just nodded, stroking Beca’s hair and with melancholy eyes.

“I don't know how I’m going to walk out that door again. Doing it once was hard enough,” Chloe murmured. A muscle was jumping in her jaw, and she seemed unable to say anything else.

“Maybe we should just tell ourselves a good lie,” Beca said softly. 

Chloe nodded. “Okay. I’ll go first.” She blinked and gave Beca her best attempt at a deadpan face. “The sex was awful. I don’t even like you that much. In fact, I don’t even know what I’m still doing here.” Chloe’s gaze involuntarily dropped to Beca’s lips. “Your turn.”

Beca’s throat was tight. “Saying goodbye will be easy.” Her voice had a quiet undercurrent of grief, her voice cracking. “I barely know you.” She pressed her lips into a thin line. “Did that help?”

Chloe shook her head, leaning in closer to Beca, their noses sliding against one another. She sighed. “Not even a little.”

***

Alone now, Beca pulled black pants and a tank top out of her duffel bag, silently thankful that she wouldn’t be wearing a floor-length dress tonight.

She slid the pants on and walked over to the window, pulling her tank top on as she glanced out at the city. 

Chloe left hours ago, but Beca had only just managed to drag herself out of bed. 

The day before, she’d wanted to shower the sweet scent of Chloe away, to erase the reminders of the girl with the fiery hair and the icy blue eyes. Now it was nearly impossible to pull herself away from the bedsheets that still smelled like her. 

Her eyes trailed down to the road below, landing on the black Audi R8 that could only belong to one person. She was waiting for someone to get out, but nobody did.

Then she saw it. 

She saw three large men dragging Chloe into an SUV parked just behind it. She was fighting tooth and nail, but she was outnumbered.

Beca grabbed her gun from the nightstand, shoved her feet into her boots, and sprinted to the stairs. There wasn’t time to wait for an elevator. Her feet flew down flight after flight, but by the time she got there the Audi and the SUV were gone.

There was a Manila envelope on the ground. She picked it up and turned it over. There was a handwritten address on it, and it was left there for Beca.

“Fuck,” she said. She shoved her hands into her hair. 

Nina knew. 

Nina knew everything.


	6. Miss Atomic Bomb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank-you to my friends Theresa and Cam for reading a rough draft of and giving me the feedback that helped turn it into an actual chapter! 
> 
> A huge thank-you to you for being here to read this and for being patient with me as I wrote this. Much love to all of you, final chapter will be posted tomorrow!

Miss Atomic Bomb

***

Beca raced back to her room. She shoved the receiver into her ear and turned it on. “Anyone there?”

“Here on standby,” a nameless support agent said.

“I know where Prifiti is. Get Rhett. I don’t care where he is, just get him.”

Beca reached under the bed, pulling out a bag with untold treasures. Her hands were shaking. It was strange—Beca couldn’t recall a single time her hands shook. 

The memories swirled in her brain, some fresh, others years old, as she sorted out the series of events that led her to be in this situation. Each one was a punch to the gut.

She unzipped the duffel and pulled out a black case with another gun, tossing it onto the bed quickly. Below it she pulled loaded magazines out. More ammo.

Rhett’s voice permeated through the adrenaline fog. “Mitchell, you there?”

“Rhett, I’ve got Aleksander Prifiti’s location. I’m going there now.”

“Slow down,” he said. “How the hell did you manage that?”

Beca pulled her jacket over her tank top, tucking the second gun into a sewn compartment. She didn’t have time to slow down. Not when Nina Petrov had Chloe.

“I saw them taking Chloe. I, um, I mean Beale. They must have seen through her cover,” Beca muttered. “I’m going after her.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on. If they have Beale, that’s MI6’s problem. We’re not going in there guns blazing for another country’s agent. Give us the intel you have, and we’ll get a plan to get you in there safely, get an emergency team around-”

“Sorry, Rhett, that’s not going to work for me. Get on board or let me know now if I need to ditch the earpiece.” Beca was already walking out the hotel room, leaving everything behind except the clothes on her back and the weapons on her person.

“Are you threatening to go rogue on me, Mitchell?”

Beca jogged around the side of the hotel, looking for a car that would be easy to hotwire. “In or out, Rhett. I’m going either way.” 

“Dammit.” Rhett sighed, knowing that she wasn’t playing around. “Leave it in and give me the fucking intel so I can at least try to keep you from getting killed in there.”

As she started the motor of a black Toyota, cursing at the wires under her fingers, she rattled off the information.

“And how exactly did you come across his location?” Rhett snapped.

Beca threw the car into drive and took off. “Petrov left it for me. Prifiti wants me there.”

“Why do I get the feeling there’s more to this then you’re letting on?” At Beca’s silence, he cursed under his breath. “What are you even planning to do?”

Beca turned a tight corner and accelerated. “I’m going to give him what he wants. And I’m going to make him fucking regret it.”

***

It didn’t take her long to find what she was looking for. She stopped in front of an old building, realizing it was an abandoned factory.

“Alright, I’m heading in,” she muttered to Rhett.

She climbed out of the car, looking for a discreet place to enter. She settled on a broken window on the north wall, using a ‘No Trespassing’ sign to scrape away the remaining shards.

As soon as she slid in, careful to avoid crunching glass under her feet, her senses were assaulted. 

Thin shafts of sunlight provided the only illumination through the broken ceiling. As her eyes adjusted she could make out old machinery that looked like it hadn’t been touched in over a decade.

Heavy industrial curtains hang along the length of the building. Good- if she needed to conceal herself those would do the trick. She walked further on, her senses heightened.

There was a light scrape behind her. She whirled around, and two men in black suits were quickly approaching her. 

“Shit.” Beca raised her gun, but the smaller of the two wrenched it from her grasp. 

Beca huffed in annoyance as the closest one tried to tackle her. She let him, and then sprawled, slamming his face into the concrete. 

Realizing he was unconscious, Beca whipped the second gun out of her jacket and buried two bullets in the chest of the second and watched him slide to his knees.

She picked her gun up off the floor.

She left them bleeding on the ground.

***

Beca walked deeper into the bowels of the den, hoping for any sign of Chloe. The place had a rancid smell, one that told of the stray animals that had reclaimed the factory floor.

She needed to focus, but it was only Chloe she could think about. For all she knew, Chloe could be dead. She was stunned by the pain of this possibility. 

Beca’s world was so different. People like Chloe didn’t exist- until one day she did. There was no use fooling herself about why she couldn’t focus, why her hands shook. Beca had been so unsuspecting, so off guard, that Chloe had carved out a little spot in Beca’s heart to call home without Beca even noticing. 

She’d never met someone who could look right through her, who could make her rise to the slightest glances and touches. She didn’t know what it all meant. She only knew she had to get to her and keep her alive.

Her heart thumped harder when she realized Chloe must be alive. Petrov and Prifiti wouldn’t have used her as a lure if there wasn’t some sort of end that Chloe was a means to. 

Beca ducked behind a dirty industrial machine, moving as quickly as she could without telling the whole world where she was.

She took a quick step forward, but then there was a sharp pain to the back of her head, and then there was nothing.

***

When Beca opened her eyes again, the world was off-focus. She blinked a couple of times before it looked right again.

“Rather out of your territory, aren’t you?” Nina said cooly.

She was standing in front of Beca, her hair slicked back into a tight bun, wearing a navy power-suit. Beca had always thought she looked too young to be a formidable arms dealer, but when she spoke there was an authoritative tone that let her know her appointment wasn’t arbitrary.

Beca squinted against the light, taking in her surroundings. She was in what looked like an old office. Papers littered the floor, and Beca was in a desk chair with her hands uncomfortably zip-tied behind her back. Her earpiece was notably absent- they must have removed it while she was out.

“And here I thought I had an open invitation,” Beca muttered through the headache.

Her eyes landed on Prifiti. He stood there stiffly, a threatening-looking cricket bat leaned up against the wall next to him. There was another man standing in the corner, but right now he was the least of Beca’s concerns.

“Your friend from MI6 wasn’t particularly subtle about showing you her girlfriend’s tell,” Prifiti said. “Imagine my own surprise when Nina comes to me with the security footage and I see none other than Beca Mitchell, partner of Mike Braga, who’s face I so lovingly put a bullet in.”

Beca kept her face perfectly placid, but all she could think was how nice it was going to feel to snuff him out. “Small world, huh?”

Prifiti nodded to Nina, and she left the room silently.

“Nina will be taking excellent care of your friend for now. You see, she wasn’t too pleased to find that the woman who had been sleeping in her bed was not only fucking another woman but aiding her in taking her money. It was only icing on the cake when she showed me the security footage from the poker game and I recognized you within seconds.”

It all came back to that poker game, all of it. “Where is she?” Beca asked.

“Yes, the girl. Agent Chloe Beale. She’s with… shall we say, a friend of mine while she waits for Nina.”

Beca did everything in her power not to physically react. A reaction would only give him leverage, but her heart was beating like a gunshot in her chest.

“Now… I’m going to need something from you,” Prifiti said.

 _Appear unbothered_ , she told herself. She sighed for dramatic effect. “Alright, lay it on me,” she said flatly. 

Aleksander lifted the cricket bat, looking at with near-affection. “110 million stolen dollars will need to be transferred into this bank account.” Aleksander held a tablet in his other hand.

“Yikes… that’s asking a lot there, bud.”

He smirked a little. “You sure about that? I’m giving you an out here.” When Beca just stared back, he nodded to himself. “Okay.” 

Raising the cricket bat slowly, he suddenly swung it as though the world series depended on it, the wood smacking against her ribs with a crack. Beca tried to remain completely silent, but a suppressed groan escaped her lips. 

It was a single, awful spike of pain that was fading into a deep throb already.

Her cheeks puffed out in a strained attempt at a breath. “That tickles,” Beca coughed out, forcing herself to grin as the corners of her eyes prickled with moisture.

Aleksander wound up again and Beca closed her eyes and waited for the pain- she knew that the beginning of torture was the worst. It didn’t get any better until after the peak, when the nerves were blunted and unconsciousness loomed above you like a threat and a kindness all at once. 

Sometimes there was even a period of warmth before the blackout. 

Before that nice little bit, though, it was all shit. The pain was pink and green and hot and cold and altogether unbearable.

***

Beca wasn’t sure how long the whole charade had lasted when he reached forward and touched Beca’s lip where it was split open. Jerking her head back, she looked at him through narrowed eyes.

Placing a tablet in Beca’s lap, Aleksander leaned in. “Changed your mind yet?”

She was gasping for air. It took all her willpower to shake her head no. Aleksander smirked, like that was the answer he’d been waiting for. 

“Alright. I’m beginning to get a sense of what motivates you and what doesn’t.” He pulled a gun from the waistband of his Prada suit, pressing the barrel to Beca’s knee. “Does this change anything?”

Her eyes traveled down to where the gun threatened to make sure she never walked again. She sat there, unflinching, and mentally braced herself. 

To her surprise, he pulled the gun away. “That doesn’t do the trick either,” he observed. He gestured to the man behind him. “Show me the girl.”

Beca’s stomach sank through the floor. A silent nod and he disappeared. When he returned, a  
laptop was in his hand. 

He placed it on the dirty desk in front of Prifiti. A moment later, a video call connected, and there was Chloe. She was in a dark room, not unlike the abandoned office in which Beca sat, arms zip-tied behind her back and duct tape over her mouth. 

Beca looked at Chloe’s frightened eyes and a thousand conflicting emotions went through her at once. Anger that Chloe was so scared, relief that she was still alive, and a fire in her stomach to make Prifiti pay.

Nina Petrov was standing next to her like a statue.

“Go ahead, Nina,” Aleksander said calmly.

Nina’s hand hovered over a bat before she moved it slowly over to her gun. She wrapped her fingers around the grip lovingly before pressing it to Chloe’s knee. Beca’s heart jumped as Chloe’s eyes slammed closed and a terrified gasp left her lips.

“Wait!” Beca gasped. “Wait.”

Aleksander’s eyes were locked on hers, a sickening entertainment in his eyes as he nodded at the camera. Nina raised the gun until it was pressed against Chloe’s temple. Her finger twitched.

“Stop!” The intrigue was written on Aleksander’s face. “Stop, stop, I’ll do it! Just… put it down.”

Chloe’s head lifted at the sound of Beca’s voice, her eyes finding her on the screen. Beca wanted to run to her and soothe her skin. She wanted to push Chloe’s hair back and tell her no one was going to hurt her.

Aleksander watched her for a moment, then smiled again. He was feeling good, relaxed, loose. “Alright,” he said. He brought the tablet to Beca.

“You’re going to have to untie me if you want me to transfer it.”

Aleksander shook his head. “You can tell me the information aloud or she gets a bullet.”

A voice in the back of her head surfaced from years back. Beca was just 21 years old, out on a mission with Mike. _“You can do more with two hands behind your back than most people can do at all. I wish I was joking, but I’m not. It’s actually kind of terrifying.”_

She glanced back at Chloe. Everything that happened next was a blur.

***

The laptop lay in pieces on the floor.

More notably, the man who brought it into the room lay next to it, unconscious and bleeding from the nose. 

Most notable of all, Beca was on top of Aleksander Prifiti, her knee digging into his gut.  
Oh, and his gun was in her hand.

Beca was trying to hide how winded she was, how every breath felt like a sharp stab to her side. It was possible her ribs were broken, but she didn’t have time to dwell.

“Okay,” she breathed. “New game. Really similar to the last one, just reversed roles.” She waved the gun. “You have ten seconds to tell me where Chloe is. You’ve got another ten to tell me where the bomb is.”

Beca’s knuckles were already red, forming fresh bruises. A red streak wrapped around both of her wrists from where she’d broken the zip ties. 

Just another day at the office.

“You see, when I took the girl, I hid the weapon as well. I’m the only person on this planet who knows where it is. So…” He gave a wry smile. “I’d say I have more than ten seconds.”

She paused. Her muscles were strained so tightly, they felt like they might snap at any moment.  
Rhett’s words from before bounced through Beca’s mind, the things he said to her after the poker game when Chloe was deemed collateral damage. _She knows too much. Neutralize the threat. Stick to the mission._

Something had been building up in her for so long, and all at once, it was suddenly overflowing. She was sick and tired of playing by everyone else’s rules. Rhett’s. Aleksander’s.

Beca refused to put the mission before Chloe’s life. 

Chloe wasn’t expendable. She wasn’t some tool for negotiation. And Beca would _really_ appreciate it if people would start acting like it. 

Pulling the gun up, she pointed it right at Aleksander’s mouth. “Tell me where you have her or your teeth are going to decorate the back of your skull. I’m way past this nuclear weapon shit, do you understand me? Not too worried about that right now. So I want you to rethink it and come up with a really good answer.”

The last words barely left her mouth when a gunshot sounded and the window behind her shattered. Her head snapped up to see a broad-shouldered man standing in the doorway, his gun aimed right at Beca.

Beca ducked instinctively. 

Prifiti struggled against her. She grabbed onto his lapels and rolled over, trying to use him as a human shield as she aimed for the man in the door.

Two more shots rang out, and then suddenly the man was on the ground. She froze, her forearm pinning Prifiti down. 

Beca looked up in confusion—her gun was _not_ responsible for that—she never pulled her trigger.  
Red hair flashed before her eyes as Chloe came running around the corner into the office. “Holy shit,” Beca said, staring up at Chloe’s flushed face.

That single moments’ distraction was enough for Prifiti to capitalize.

***

“What do you mean he got away?” Rhett growled.

Beca hated when he got like this. “Your answer is in the question,” she said impatiently. “He’s gone.”

“How did you let it happen?” he demanded. “You know what, don’t answer that. This is an unsecured line.”

Beca was using the phone she’d pulled off the guy on the floor. The line was about as unsecured as they came. 

She was silently grateful she wouldn’t have to say it aloud- they way Prifiti dove out the window, the way a car had been waiting for him.

“I was distracted,” Beca muttered. In rare form, she said, “Look, I’m sorry.”

“You think I haven’t noticed you’ve been distracted this entire assignment? Just stay put,” he said before hanging up.

As frustrated as she was with all of this, the words ‘stay put’ had a nice ring to them. It meant he had a plan.

She put the phone in her pocket before turning back to Chloe. “Are you okay?” Beca asked nervously. She didn’t see any signs of harm, but in reality that didn’t mean a thing.

Her arms were wrapped protectively around her body in a way that made Beca’s chest throb. “Yeah, I’m alright,” Chloe said, not explaining further.

Beca’s hand found Chloe’s elbow. “What the hell happened? Where’s Nina?” 

“Dead,” Chloe said, not meeting Beca’s eyes.

Beca felt a pang of regret in her chest. Chloe wasn't like Beca- she wasn’t an executioner by trade. If Beca had done things differently, maybe Chloe would never have needed to put two more marks on her soul today. 

She opened her mouth to say something of comfort, maybe to pull her in and hold her, but they both stilled at the sound of a distant buffering. It could only be one thing—a helicopter. Whether it was the CIA or MI6, someone had come for them. 

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Chloe said.

Chloe grabbed Beca’s hand and they raced out of the room, running despite every screaming protest her body gave until they found stairs. As they ran out onto the roof, the helicopter was lowering itself, throwing their hair around and blowing dirt into their eyes. 

The pilot passed a phone to her. She dropped the dead guy’s phone and took that one, raising it to her ear to hear Rhett’s sharp voice. “We’ve tracked Prifiti into the city. We think he’s headed toward a private airstrip. I need to know if you’re ready to go after him.”

Her stomach dropped. She didn’t know what she thought was going to happen, but when the chopper landed this wasn’t it. Phone pressed to her ear, she met Chloe’s gaze in wordless shock.

“You there, Mitchell?” After a long while, he said, “It’s your call.”

Beca dropped the phone to her side, all words lost. Still holding Beca’s hand behind her, Chloe climbed in first. She turned to help Beca in.

Beca wanted to let Chloe pull her in alongside her. But she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t step in with her. 

Was Beca crazy? She had to be. An angel was trying to pull her to safety, but Beca couldn’t let her. 

“Aleksander is out there,” Beca said over the buffering of the helicopter blades. “I can’t… I can’t let him go. Not again.”

Chloe looked at her, saw right through her. “I know. Come on.”

***

They landed at the airstrip, and Beca knew she had to move fast. Dropping down onto the asphalt, her gaze found Chloe’s. She tried to really see Chloe’s fiery hair- tried to memorize her icy blue eyes.

Chloe looked back at Beca desperately, gripping her hand tighter. “Let me come with you,” Chloe said. She moved to get down from the chopper, but Beca planted her hands on Chloe’s hips, keeping her there. 

As she leaned into Chloe’s touch, Beca thought to herself, this was the thing she couldn’t bear to lose.

“You understand why you can’t, right?” Beca asked, her throat tight.

Mike’s goofy smile flashed behind her eyes. Beca couldn’t let Prifiti take Chloe, too. He couldn’t have them both.

Chloe looked back at her wordlessly, trying to hide the pain of the idea of letting her go on her own. 

Eventually she nodded, her lips pressed together in a thin line.

As much as Beca wanted to turn around and walk away, as badly as she needed to go, her feet wouldn’t budge. Her wide, frantic eyes could not rip themselves from Chloe. It occurred to Beca that there was no guarantee she would make it out of this. 

“Listen, in case something happens, I…” Beca started desperately, not knowing what she wanted to say. 

That she wanted Chloe to be careful? That she cared about her? 

That she loved her? 

Beca didn’t know what words could make Chloe understand something she couldn’t fathom herself. The only thing that she was sure of at that moment was that if she left Chloe, it would be as though she were leaving a limb behind.

Chloe looked back with a worn and weakened face. “I know.” 

Suddenly, two hands cupped Beca’s jaw an instant before Chloe’s mouth descended on hers in a hard kiss—all ownership and demand. It was enough that Beca had a taste of her and realized she would never have enough. 

Chloe’s grip was unrelenting even as she pulled back an inch only to kiss Beca harder, pressing and molding possessive lips to hers. 

There was a need and intent she couldn’t comprehend. Beca was pulling Chloe closer with a fervent need she had never known before. At that moment, Chloe was the only solid thing in the world.

Beca didn’t know if it was Chloe or herself who pulled away first, but they stopped so abruptly she was sure it was the only reason she was able to let go.


	7. The Realization

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally done! Thank you all for sticking with me through this story. Much love to all of you

The Realization

***

Beca and Chloe walked hand in hand down a softly lit hallway, ornate carpet and heavy tapestries lining the walls. A hotel room Rhett arranged was waiting at the end.

The air was thick with exhaustion, their feet barely lifting off the ground. She’d only just left the hospital after being evaluated. The verdict was no worse than she’d already known herself—bruised knuckles, a couple cracked ribs, and a concussion.

All Beca wanted to do was curl up into the bed, but Chloe was the one who had good sense between the two of them. 

“We need to shower.”

Beca nodded and followed her into the bathroom. Chloe turned the hot water on and turned around, gently clutching the hems of Beca’s clothes and helping her out of them. 

Beca swallowed a lump in her throat, remembering just hours ago when she collapsed into Chloe’s arms, her breath coming in ragged pulls. The adrenaline had been long gone from her bloodstream and the full extent of her injuries was washing over her.

 _“I got you,”_ Chloe had whispered into Beca’s hair. _“I got you, I got you,”_ she’d said over and over.

Now they just stood in silence. Her eyes lingered on the massive and fresh red bruising on Beca’s side. “Does it hurt?” Chloe asked quietly.

She felt fine, really. 

Except for her head. And her ribs. And the pulsating soreness of the bruises over her ribs, and the nausea that was hitting her from standing for too long. 

A long time passed before Beca murmured, “Only when I think about it.”

Without speaking, Chloe stepped into the shower and gently pulled Beca in by the wrist. The water scalded her skin, but it wasn’t exactly bad. Something had to wash the memories away, after all. 

The water sprayed sore muscles as they stood there, holding each other so the stream would hit both their shoulders, and maybe to keep themselves from falling apart.

Chloe pressed her forehead against Beca’s. “You took ten years off my life today.”  
  
She leaned into the redhead, tightening her grip. “I think today took ten years off everybody’s life.”

“I’m serious,” Chloe said. She pulled back and stared down at her. Those brilliant eyes could do so much. “I don’t know what I would have done if something had happened to you.”

Beca found her voice. It wobbled, but it worked. “I didn’t think you were the type to scare easily,” she said softly.

“I’m not.” The intensity in Chloe’s eyes made Beca’s pulse race. The moment was brutal in the most profoundly exquisite way. 

It was there on the rooftop that Beca knew she would never have enough of Chloe. Of all the things in this confusing, painful, wild, and precious world that she was unsure of, she was sure of that. 

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” Chloe asked quietly. “At the airstrip?”

Beca just shook her head, suppressing the memories. “Not even a little.”

Eventually Beca reached for the shampoo. Chloe said, “Wait.” 

Chloe took the bottle from her and squeezed a dollop in her hand. She started running it through Beca’s hair, lathering it over her scalp and massaging her head. 

Beca closed her eyes and she was floating. Chloe’s fingers pulled it through her hair, her nails gently scratching her scalp. Then Chloe took the soap and started lathering her chest, her hands running across every curve and slope of her body, careful around her ribs. 

She rinsed Beca clean, using her hands to wash the suds away and running her fingers through her hair. She spent at least five minutes just rinsing Beca’s hair, kissing her back and chest over and over again. 

It was almost surreal. Beca had never felt so loved by another person in her life. No one had ever been so gentle with her. Was that sad? Beca didn’t know. In a way maybe it was, but she couldn’t feel anything other than pure bliss. 

It was like she had been drained and empty, and Chloe was slowly filling her back up again. There wasn’t room for anything else except that holy experience.

***

In two days’ time, Beca landed back in Washington D.C.

When she walked back into her studio apartment, everything about it seemed so cold and distant. She set her keys on the counter and took a few steps before realizing she didn’t really know what she was walking to.

This place never really felt like home to begin with. Beca was never around enough. She was so young when she started working with the CIA, and then she was always gone. Even more so since Mike died and she threw herself into work.

The apartment was bare, containing just a couch, and bed, and a dresser that doubled as a place to set the things that she didn’t want to deal with. Walking over to the minuscule closet, she pulled her suitcase out and began impulsively shoving clothes in it. 

Once the suitcase was full, she stood in the doorway and looked at the studio. 

“I’m never coming back here again,” she breathed into the little room. 

Beca hailed a cab and went to the only place she could think of. She walked down a long strip of grass until she saw Mike’s name on a stone. 

“Hey, Mike,” she said shakily. “Jesus. It’s been crazy without you.”

She sank down to her knees in front of his gravestone, doing her best to keep it together. Her breaths were coming quicker now. 

“I guess I just thought you should know that Aleksander Prifiti is dead.” 

Beca swallowed the lump rising in her throat. In her mind’s eye, she could see Prifiti’s eyes looking into hers in the last seconds of his life, and felt nothing but adrift, unable to navigate. 

“I thought it was going to feel so good. But I shot him and it just… made me so tired. I mean, he’s dead, it’s a good thing. But doing it…” She sighed. “The nuclear weapon was recovered at the strip with him. So, uh, the mission is done, Mike. We’re finally done.”

She thought about the way she tried to spare Prifiti—the way she tried to make him understand that she could take him in to face a jury.

A small white bird chirped in the branches of the tree in front of her. There was only the sound of her breathing, the enormous effort it took to not let each draw break her. Grief buried her, and somehow it felt as though she was losing Mike twice, as though the full force of his loss was only now hitting her.

“And I know it’s not going to bring you back. And it’s not going to make me stop missing you. And it doesn’t make me feel any fucking better.” 

She wiped her eyes. Wrapped in silence, she thought about the only thing that kept her going. It lessened the weight of it, and the corner of her lip twitched.

“But I met someone. I never thought I would find a person who knew everything about me, all the dirty, gritty parts, and still want to love me. But somehow she does, Mike. Fuck. You would have loved her. You really, really would have.”

Beca rested back on her heels, the sounds of the birds in the trees and the crickets in the grass filling the air. 

The pain and the love were packed inside her chest, fighting for room. 

“I quit the job. If you were still here today, I wouldn’t even dream of it. I couldn’t leave you on your own to end up with some idiot who wouldn’t know how you step when you’re about to take your shot, or how many drinks you need when an assignment ends. But you’re gone. You’ve been gone for a while. So I’m thinking… it’s okay to step back. I don’t have a plan. But for once I don’t really want one, either.”

**EPILOGUE**

**Eleven years later**

“Jade, Mikey, it’s time for bed.”

Beca walked down the long hallway, peeking her head in the last bedroom. “Did you brush your teeth?”

Jade was laying on her belly in her bed as she scribbled away at something in a notebook. Her copper-colored curls were a mess, her blue eyes as bright as ever. “I already did,” Jade replied.

Beca smiled at her before turning around. “Mikey, don’t forget to brush-”

“I am, I am,” Mike called from the bathroom. 

“Alright, alright, I was just checking.”

He ran out of the bathroom in his superhero pajamas and launched himself into his bed. Most days, Beca had no idea where he got all that energy from, but he seemed to have it in troves. 

“Lights out, punks,” she said.

“No!” Jade called from her bedroom. “You have to tell us a bedtime story first.”

Beca leaned against the doorframe. Her daughter was looking up at her with hopeful eyes, knowing full well it would serve as a means to achieve her ends. “Alright, what story do you want to hear?”

“Hmm…” Jade sat there for a second, mentally running through her options. “The one about the two spies who fall in love.”

“I haven’t told you that one in a while. Hopefully I can remember all the details. Okay, get comfortable.” 

Jade quickly climbed under the covers, pulling them up and looking at her mom expectantly. Beca walked into her room, sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“Want to hear a story, Mike?” she called. “I’m telling the one about the spies.”

A little pitter-patter of feet echoed in the hallway, and then Mike climbed into Jade’s bed next to his big sister. Beca reached out and ruffled his mousey brown hair that matched her own exactly.

“Okay,” she said softly. “Once upon a time, there were two women.”

“And they were both spies,” Mike said excitedly.

“Yes. Both from different countries, both from different sides. The first spy was given a very important mission. But there was another spy—a spy who made her job dangerous just by simply being there. So, her mission became to take the other spy out.”

Mike and Jade were lying there, staring up at Beca with captivated eyes.

“These spies were both mercenaries for their countries. They were courageous and smart, masters of disguise… they could sense danger from a mile away. The only thing these spies were afraid of—truly afraid of—was each other. When the first spy’s mission became to make the other disappear, the other spy became the mission that changed her life. But when the moment finally came… to carry out her mission…”

“She couldn’t do it,” Jade whispered.

“That’s right. This other spy was different than she thought. Sure, she was beautiful and charming, but she was also unexpectedly honorable. She reminded the first spy of what it was like not to be alone. They fell in love and they decided that together they would embark on the most dangerous mission of all.”

“What?” Jade asked.

“They decided to marry.”

“Wow,” she whispered.

“On her wedding day, the first spy felt like she would rather confront a thousand deadly missions than go through with what she was about to attempt.”

“Why?” Mike asked.

“Well, marriage is so complex that only the most brave and slightly insane need apply. There’s such an incredible path one has to navigate to keep a marriage together, much less a family, that it scared her, a tough and experienced secret agent. She didn’t know how to have a family. But when she saw the other spy standing there with no doubt whatsoever, so sure of her decision, so enamored with what they were about to do… she took her hand, looked deep into her eyes, and said the two most dangerous… most trusting words you can say to anyone.”

“What?” Jade asked.

“She said, ‘I do.’”

“Oh, that’s so cool,” Jade said, pulling the blankets up tighter.

“They retired, settled down, had a few kids. In a way, they exchanged one life of adventure for another… trading espionage for parenthood… a mysterious and thrilling mission on its own. And they lived happily ever after.”

“Good story, Mom, but it could use a new ending,” Mike chirped. “Something with monsters.”

Beca laughed, pulling Jade’s blankets up a little higher and kissing her forehead. “Alright. You come up with an ending that has monsters, and we’ll tell it that way from now on.”

Picking him up and setting him on her hip, she walked across the hallway and put him down gingerly in his own bed. He crawled under the covers, pulling them all the way to his chin.

“I’m in, Mama.”

“I know. Look at you, making my job easy.” 

At just four years old, he was already so perfect, so determined to charge at life full-speed. 

Some days she couldn’t wrap her mind around how much she loved the two greatest things she could ever have a part in creating. There wasn’t a single thing she wouldn’t do for them, and there were times that knowledge filled her with a fear that was as old as life itself. Only the joy of holding them in her arms could tame it.

Beca kissed him on the forehead and said, “Okay, Mikey, good night. Mama loves you.”

“Love you too,” he said through a yawn. 

Beca flipped the light off and shut the door behind him, walking back to Jade’s room. “Ready for lights out?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright. Love you, baby.”

“Love you, Mom.”

She lingered, just looking at her beautiful daughter for a moment. 

It had taken her so long to agree to have them. Six years ago Chloe had Jade, and two years later Beca had Mikey. Beca had been so scared that their pasts would come back to haunt them, worried that a girl who never had a family could never create one. 

But Chloe had wanted them so badly. After so much time, Beca knew to follow her lead and trust her. 

She flipped the light out and closed the door quietly.

She knew there were so many things her kids would never know. She would always hide from them what wasn’t theirs to know, and the story of two spies falling in love would always be just that—a magical bedtime story. 

They would never know that their mothers knew the aftermath of watching a person die, about how they always stay with you. Mikey would always know he was named after someone important to his mom, but never know the true and exact reason why.

When she walked into her own bedroom, Chloe was curled up on their bed, a book in her lap. She looked up at Beca with a smile. “Did you send the kids to bed with nightmares?”

Some nights Beca felt just the sight of Chloe in her gut, a deep ache reminding her how much she really had. 

“Not tonight. Although Mikey did request an increase in monsters.”

The smile that came over the love of her life’s face made her grin like an idiot. Chloe chuckled, holding her hand out. Beca grabbed it and let herself be pulled down next to Chloe, letting her head fit in the crook of her shoulder.

“What was the story tonight?”

“Ours,” Beca said simply. 

Chloe smiled. “Let me guess. Jade picked the story.”

They both laughed quietly. “Of course she did.”

Chloe marked the page in her book and set it down on the nightstand. Rolling over, she looked into Beca’s eyes with such tenderness it made her heart swell.

Their lips met in a kiss, Chloe claiming Beca, and Beca claiming her. If Beca was ever sure of anything, it was that she was put on this earth to be this way with Chloe, that they were put on this earth to be this way with each other.

“Do you ever miss it?” Chloe asked quietly, her lips lingering. 

Beca let her thumb slide across her wife’s lips before placing a delicate kiss there. “No. I got to hold onto the best part.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *shamelessly borrowed and changed a bit dialogue from the opening scene of spy kids bc that movie is cute as hell


End file.
